Grind (Wrong Side of the Tracks #4) Read Online K.A. Merikan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, M-M Romance Tags Authors: Series: Wrong Side of the Tracks Series by K.A. Merikan
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Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
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This was everything Frank dreamed of, but he backed away after swallowing the last of Ezra’s cum and gasped for air after forgetting to breathe for a bit too long. “You’re so beautiful. And even your spunk is delicious,” he whispered and rubbed Ezra’s sensitive opening.

Taut muscles rippled when Ezra arched on the bed. He rolled his head over the sheets and curled his toes, as if he didn’t know what to do with the sensations coursing through his body. But his hips knew what they wanted, insistently rocking back on Frank’s fingers, as if he hadn’t gotten the memo that being penetrated right after coming might not be too pleasant.

“Yeah? Was it everything you wanted?”

Frank glanced down to the softening dick and gave it one more taste. “Not just yet. Turn around. Ass up.”

If this feast was paid for, he’d have everything on offer at the buffet.

Chapter 3

Ezra

Ezra wanted his sheets to soak up Frank’s scent so he could enjoy it while catching up on sleep tomorrow. This man was pure testosterone. With biceps the size of a normal person’s head and so tall Ezra, who was not a short man, had to rest his head on his nape to meet Frank’s eyes at the door. He was also nothing like Ezra’s typical client, and he’d been through enough gym bunnies in his free time to have a valid control sample as comparison.

This wasn’t the first time Paul had asked him to spend the night with someone. Ezra liked to have very clear boundaries with new clients and vet them first, but since Paul paid for his car, and apartment, and was Ezra’s most stable source of income, he wasn’t really in a position to say no. But while Paul assured him Frank was a handsome man, the request still left him somewhat uncomfortable until that gentle giant with screws and nails for pendants knocked on his door.

He didn’t regret a thing.

Barely catching his breath, he didn’t get to respond before Frank flipped him over as if he were a puppet of flesh and bone. Being on his hands and knees, with his face buried in the pillow was like an injection of arousal, even though he’d come a minute ago and was still on a high from that experience. It would be uncomfortable if Frank fucked him now, but the temptation of that thick cock was so great that he might just get worked up again once that thick rod made him burn.

“Oh, aren’t you the beauty…” Frank murmured, and when he rubbed two fingers over Ezra’s pucker, Ezra wasn’t sure if the complement was for him, or his hole. He’d take it either way.

Ezra wanted to say something, but only a moan left his mouth, because his overheated brain wouldn’t cooperate. Frank’s hands were so coarse to the touch, betraying that he did physical labor, and something about it set Ezra on fire. Guys like Frank—rough around the edges, firm, with nonglamorous jobs—were not his target audience. But they were his indulgence. He wasn’t even embarrassed about being an absolute mess, because Frank wouldn’t see him again anyway.

It was relaxing.

He expected the tip of Frank’s dick, a request for lube and rubbers, but instead Ezra felt the soft touch of a hot, wet tongue.

Oh, Frank hadn’t been lying when he described himself as a pleaser. Ezra mewled into the pillow he pulled close from the top of the bed when Frank pushed the tip of his tongue into his opening, exploring him with the greed of a man who didn’t get to do this as frequently as he wished to.

Ezra was good at reading people—he couldn’t have been in this line of work otherwise—and Frank’s giddiness, the way he acted as if they were lovers rather than an escort and his client told him he didn’t usually hire sex workers.

Frank’s massive hands squeezed Ezra’s buttocks and pulled them apart, burying whatever analytical thoughts might have passed through Ezra’s head next.

Flames traveled up his legs and down his spine, creating a highway of sensation leading to his opening, so he pushed back into Frank’s face, curling his toes and arching his spine in response to the wonderfully soft touch. His body and mind were still slow, yet Frank wouldn’t let him settle and rest, dragging him back toward arousal with hands the size of bread loaves and a tongue that was now swirling on his pucker.

“That... feels good,” Ezra voiced, rubbing his chest and squeezing the flesh on his ribs as the soft, wet muscle opened him up. He’d prepared for anal, but the tongue made him feel soft like butter on a hot day. He’d always had an ease when it came to pleasure and arousal—something that made his job way simpler than it might be for other people—but being with someone who was not only his type but also focused on giving him pleasure? It felt like hitting the jackpot.


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